


Mine

by millionstar



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canon Era, Introspection, M/M, pining!arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-22
Updated: 2013-04-22
Packaged: 2017-12-09 04:10:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/769831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millionstar/pseuds/millionstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur <i>wants</i>, but does he have the courage to <i>act</i>?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mine

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [jelazakazone](http://archiveofourown.org/users/jelazakazone/pseuds/jelazakazone)'s [21 first lines remix challenge on LiveJournal](http://jelazakazone.livejournal.com/738090.html)  
> . The first line I selected to remix was provided by [RocknVaughn](http://archiveofourown.org/users/RocknVaughn/pseuds/RocknVaughn).

Sometimes when he walks, I cannot but help watch the innate grace in the movement. 

The glances I steal from him are secret ones, for if he were to catch me in the act I do not know how he would react, or how I would react, if I am very honest. That does not change the fact, though, that thoughts of him dominate my every waking moment, as well as some of my dreams. Indeed, he strolls through them fluidly, not knowing how it affects me every time he does. 

I can safely say that I've never met anyone like him before in my young life. What is it that has led me to him at this particular point in time, I wonder? How have the gods deemed me worthy enough to be a presence in his daily life? 

In an effort to understand him better, I have studied him quite intensely. 

I have learned that he is everything that is good and pure. He is brave, even though I don't tell him that as often as I should. He is loyal, oh, so very, completely loyal, to a fault, perhaps. These things combine to create a being who seems, somehow, to have manifested straight out of a dream. 

While all of these things are true beyond measure, it's the kindness within his very soul that gives me pause and makes me catch my breath. I caught him in the lower town just yesterday, playing with a little girl who couldn't have been more than five years old. He made her smile and giggle, and his actions elicited the same reaction in me, even though I was hidden in the shadows of the late afternoon, just out of his sight. 

He is just as likely to disobey an order as he is to follow through with one. He can be maddening, mind you - but I wouldn't trade our banter for anything in the world, make no mistake. It doesn't make me angry, not really - if anything, that defiance is one of the things I love about him most, that indomitable, passionate spirit he has. I am trapped, shackled to a world of wealth and order and a very certain decorum, but when he breaks through that realm and reminds me that in so many ways we are the same, I feel free. 

And yet, he remains something of a mystery. There is... something about him that is unattainable, that remains just out of my reach. It's as though tendrils of deliberate, sparkling light emanate from his body every time he walks by and try as I might to reach out for one, they slip through my fingers every time I do. 

I often, just to myself, refer to him as "mine". That could be a pronounced bit of wishful thinking on my part, but it gives me comfort all the same. It keeps me from going mad with wondering if he could ever feel for me what I do for him. 

You see, I keep my longing internalized. 

But, let me be clear, it is a frantic and violent longing. Deeply embedded within, it haunts me constantly, whether I am on the training grounds, in one of father's boring council meetings, or merely trying to sleep. I am restless and miserable with it. 

Can we ever exist as anything other than Master and Servant? 

If so, when? 

Is it up to him? 

Is it up to me?

Most importantly, do I have the courage to find out, once and for all? 

My thoughts scatter as he enters my chambers, and my heart begins to pound more with every step that brings him closer to me. I turn back to the window where I am standing and take a deep breath. He's so close to me now that I can smell him, can sense the heat of his body mingling with mine, as he drones on about something to do with the upcoming feast tonight. 

When I finally summon the courage to turn to him, he abruptly closes his mouth when he sees my face. He moves closer, raising one hand as though to brush the lone tear falling down my cheek away, but pauses, as though he's asking permission to do so.

I nod, blinking on a shaky exhale. 

He takes one final step forward, brushing the tear away with the pad of his thumb, his eyes scanning my face for a clue as to what's going on. I can understand his confusion, for I don't think he's ever seen me cry before. He smooths the lining of my thin white shirt with his fingertips, and I instinctively reach for his hand, holding it there, in place, squeezing it and I am touching him, finally, _finally_ , and even if he bolts right now I can die a happy man because I had this moment in time with him. 

Instead, understanding dawns in his eyes, and his free hand moves to my face, warm fingertips brushing back the hair from my forehead. I can see the worry floating away as it is replaced with something much more gentle. He pulls me close, pressing his lips to my cheek so sweetly that my knees nearly buckle with longing. Before I know what's even happening, we're in each others' arms, holding on for dear life, as he gifts me with soft kisses to my face.

This time, when I refer to Merlin as "mine", I give it physical voice, for the first time ever.

Oh, you should _see_ how it makes him smile.


End file.
